People had a funny way of looking at things in her mind.
A young child, barely a few weeks old and people had already predestined its future. A never-ending thirst for crime, the cycle that never stopped, or a life of never-ending glory. These judgments were usually set on race. A homeless man was immediately the subject of substance abuse, when in reality he was thrown out of the house for not being able to provide like he should. Females waiting on the corners of sidewalks had obviously had "daddy issues" as children, playing out in their careers. However, you look into the hearts of any of these women and find out they crave a love so deep even the oceans would be jealous, even if their only way of finding this was one hour stands with anyone who would pay.
Most looked as far as they needed to to make a snap judgement about a stranger. How would they know that this child would grow to become a member of Starfleet, die in his regular duties when they were hit by a unpredicted comet? Nor would they know that the homeless man was only unable to provide due to severe PTSD from serving for his country. How would anyone be able to tell that this woman got up every morning to work two jobs and still be able to barely feed her son?
Somehow, in your last moments, you realize that living life as if there is always someone beneath you is pointless. People thing they're invincible, but in reality they're as breakable as glass. Underneath, we are all truly the same. A heart, lungs, liver and eyes. Only the man at the very bottom of this existential chain knows happiness.
And oh, what a shame it is to realize it then. For what can the dying man do to change his own fate?
Death is always described as painless, the feeling of floating taking over your senses for one last time. To her, death's feeling always depended on how it was earned. Violent deaths were violent and painful; peaceful deaths were painless and airy; and anything else was a mixture of the two.
Those with sudden, violent deaths, Andy liked to think that death wasn't airy. It wasn't painless. Death, even after it was served, was either punishment or pleasure. The sudden rush of adrenaline would fade from your body, and as you died, you would feel. You would truly feel for the first time in your life. Your mind and soul would become one with earth, and you would feel every pain that she felt as you felt your own. And like a hurricane, it would come and go, leaving destruction in its wake. Andy was more than glad to have not been one of the violent deaths.
With Andy, death had not come easily to her. Even when she was still awake, fighting to stay conscious as she floated further and further to the bottom of the crystal-clear pool of water, she could feel it. The weight of thousands of tons of water crushing, clouding her vision as blacked crawled its way in from every side.
Her body hit the bottom of the lake with a soft thud, dark hair fanning out around her as she stared up at the blurred moon, only made worse by the water covering it. Her first memory was of the moon, and her last would be of it. Andy was so far gone that she could almost feel Samuel next to her, smiling and talking about the stars like the huge dork he was.
Deep within her mind, she had a small flicker of hope. The hope that it wasn't over. The hope that someone would save her, pull her from the depths of the lake and breathe life back into her. But she knew it was hopeless. Her team was in their last stretch before the exam was over, and helping another was immediate failure.
She knew damn well that Kaliena wouldn't help her. Even though she no longer tried to kill Andy on a regular basis, this didn't stop her resentment towards her. Hell, she may even celebrate her death. The other two she knew from their small examination team of six had already completed theirs, two Johnson twins. There was a Kirk, J., and a McCoy, L., but they just seemed like a closeted gay couple. No help there.
Death was closing in on her fast, skeleton hands reaching for her longingly. And my god was she scared.